My Little Knight in Shiny Armour!
by Parpallee
Summary: Ok! So I was crying, so I was scared But that doesn't mean he could just poke me HARD. So I did the only logical thing. I punched him in the face.


**A/N: I'm new here and this is my first story.. so enjoy!**

** By the way, even though this story is a sakunaru fanfic I like sasusaku better. I just thought Sasuke won't fit in with this story (you'll see why later on in the story) and the narrator of this story is Sakura.**

"words" – normal speech

"**words" – inner sakura**

**Disclaimer:-** I don't own Naruto. If I did, would I be writing my own manga's fanfiction..!

"**My Little Knight in Shiny Armour!"**

Every girl dreams (or at least thinks) about their 'hero', Romeo or in modern terms 'Edward Cullen' in some point of their lives. We, either fantazis about them riding up to us on a white steed, bike, Ferrari… whatever and sweeping us off our feet like in that recent show you just watched with all those mushy stuffs and yada yada…. The point is: We'd been there, done that AND it actually never even happened in reality. Most of us gets stuck with emotionless bastards who has the facial expression limits of a rock or one of those outdated retards who thinks they can buy our affection with a rose. Oh no! I don't doubt their sanity cause they had none. I mean what has the world come to.. Oh right! The 21st century….?

Anyway, I guess you can say I'm one of those lucky few who had met their knight in shining armour.

It happened when I was in 2nd grade or maybe 3rd , I don't actually remember. (It was those days when my weird pink hair and my humongous forehead drove away every kid of my age 10 miles away..) We had our drawing class that day and we were suppose to bring our drawing books and crayons. In those days, "Mr. Clean", a brand of crayons, was rather popular among kids as well as their parents. It was small and can fit easily in your pockets. The container looked like a clear plastic mini trash can. It contained a little sharpener and about 11 crayons which was as large as 3 tooth picks put together with funny heads on top. Kids loved to play with it as well as use them for coloring. Talk about multi-utility! It was also cheap and hence, parents find it easy on their wallets as kids often tend to 'loss' their crayons every now and then.

Now, back to the story..

As being one of those diligent students (NOT!), I had the privilege of forgetting my crayons (Note the sarcasm here!).

How I had forgotten it, I had no idea. We had drawing class everyday except Thursday so how could have I forgotten it or rather how could have my mom forgotten it. She was the one who always check my bags and routines. So, it's entirely HER fault! Case closed! "**I'm innocent, I tell you!"**

So there I was in drawing class handling the situation as dignifiedly as any seven years old would.

I cried.

..

…

At that time, to me our arts teacher was a very scary lady. Especially when you've been bad or did something wrong and when she looks down at you from her nose, towering over you with her shadow, imprisoning you while sucking the life out of you.. yah! I know I'm exaggerating… a bit.

Anyway, I was scared shit and my muffled sobs seem to have caught my seat-mate's attention, whose existence I didn't even notice till he poke me in the arm.

Ok! So I was crying, so I was scared But that doesn't mean he could just poke me HARD. So I did the only logical thing.

I punched him in the face.

Blame my awesome quick reflex and 'girly'(?) muscles!

At least his nose didn't bleed, just turned into a disfigured eggplant. But the worst sight on his face wasn't his nose.

It was that stupid grin that seems to be stuck there out-of-place. **"Come on! I just hit that guy and he grins..?"**

Then, I was rudely awakened from my inner debate of his sanity or rather lack of it, with his voice.

"Why are you leaking?"

..

…

LEAKING? **"What's that suppose to mean, moron!"**

"I'm crying." Stating the obvious to the obvious idiot.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because my mom forgot to put my crayons in my bag." I wailed.

I know, even when I was little I hate the blame to be put on me.

"Oh! That.."

..

"**Oh! That..?"**

Does this guy have no sense or sympathy? Or does he just want to die in the hands of a cute (cough..cough) pigtailed girl?

"Miss is gonna scold me and..and then punish me." I sobbed even harder at this.

At this point, the idiot beside me was at a lost what to do. He seems to be frantically scratching the back of his head while I continued on my sobbing session.

Then, suddenly something was shoved infront of my face.

What in the world?

At first I couldn't see anything clearly with my tears-filled eyes. But wait a minute..!

..sniff..sniff.. I know that smell.

I quickly rubbed off the tears with the sleeve of my shirt.

And there 'it' stood…. (on my desk..)

..a brand new pack of "Mr. Clean".

I was right. I had smelt the unique fragrance of "Mr. Clean".

"You can have it if you like, you know." A suddenly shy voice besides me said.

I turned to look at the boy, whom I just deem as an idiot moments ago, in awe.

"Why?" I managed to shutter out.

"Because you don't have any…"

Aww.. so sweet!

"…and you were crying like a baby just because of that silly reason."

"**He just had to add THAT part, didn't he?"**

Maybe I should reacquaint him with my fist.

Or maybe not… I starting to kinda like that stupid grin and technically, he just save me.

"But how about you? Won't you get in trouble?" I got worried.

"Nah! My dad will just scold me for like 10 seconds and then get me a new one."

"But.. but what about the teacher? Do you have an extra set?" I asked hopefully.

"Umm.. about that. No, I don't, but its 'kay. I can deal with it. No sweat! She will just make me stand outside or on the bench or something like that.. Don't worry! I do it all the time."

He proclaimed manly (or as 'manly' as a 7 years old can).

He somehow managed to make me feel better and giggle at that and my day just got sunnier again.

And yah! He got punished by our teacher when she found out he didn't have his crayons. She made him stand on his bench holding his ears.

And yah! I got out scot-free that period aside from some warnings from our teacher for not paying attention to my work and for looking up too often at my seatmate **slash** _**'savior'**_.

And yah! I gave him the picture I drew which was filled with only smiley-face suns and daisies because that's all I could think about while looking up at him the whole period. It was like an exchange gift for the crayons he gave me, although I think it hardly suffix.

And no, I don't even know his name and I don't think he knew mine either.

And no, I don't even remember what he looked like. I just had a vague image of blond hair, bright blue eyes and the toothy grin with three front teeth missing, which I don't think is that stupid anymore.

And no, I don't know where he is now.

And no, he didn't even remotely fill in the requirements of an ideal Prince Charming. (He got an 'F' in this test.)

But somehow, that day when he looked down at me, his hands holding his ears red, standing on the bench, with his grin in place with the gaps in his front teeth, (it may have something to do with the lightings or I may have been delusional) I knew right away that he was my perfect knight in shiny armour.

No, he didn't have any shining armours and no, he was hardly perfect.

And yah! I may never meet him again.

But he was mine, my little knight, gappy-smile* and all.

And that's all that matters.

**THE END**

**-------------------X------------------**

**A/N:** *gappy smile- this is the word I made up for his grin with those teeth filled with gaps.

Based on a real life event that occurred in the author's life


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